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“Anything you need from the store sweetie”
Christine looked up as she was reading her favourite book by Raymond Carver.
Did he really ask this question? He did have no clue? Did he know nothing?
She couldn’t help being blunt and annoyed.
What happened to her being a queen.
“Queen of the day”
That was how they’d always done it.
Done it for years! Twenty-five long years, a quarter of a century.
And on his birthday he was king of the day.
He would always make her breakfast in bed with a pink rose in her favourite crystal bowl, an English breakfast just the way she liked it always!
All these years he’d done the same.
“I’ll be back in an hour”, he said.
Christine didn’t bother replying this time.
“Did you hear sweetie?”
She looked, his face was kind of strange.
It was as if was shying away from smiling, leaving a hint.
This was no time for jokes she thought to herself.
It was her day, she ought to be treated like a queen, not be the butt of a joke.
“Okay,” she muttered as he went out through the back door.
She could have sworn she saw his lips part swiftly with a grin, through the window as he walked towards his car.
He acted like he was 25 again.
Just how old he was the year they met no more than that!
Short and sweet. Waiting for more.
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